


Shark

by BilletDoux



Category: Marvel, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Violence, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-19 23:45:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BilletDoux/pseuds/BilletDoux
Summary: A small team is assigned to investigate rumors of wealthy politicians who've allegedly been running an underground mutant sex trafficking ring in the southernmost region of the country, and, in an attempt to gather information, must use one of their own as the bait.





	Shark

**Author's Note:**

> _Shark - A good/crafty player often posing as a fish (a player who loses money) early in the game_

“I am _not_ wearin’ dis,” Remy says, looking at the suit that's been laid out on his bed.

“It's a formal event, Gumbo,” Logan tells him as he struggles with his bowtie. “The suit will help you fit in.” 

“It an _art collector_ party, _vieux_. ‘Sides, ain't de whole idea you _want_ me to get noticed?”

Remy slides past Logan and browses the items hanging up in their closet.

“Look, Remy know he ain't de most trustworthy person on dis team - but you could least have de confidence to let me dress myself, yeah? Dat suit tragic, Lo.”

“Look, all Jean said was that you need to wear the tie. It's got a camera in it, I think.”

Remy just thanks God it's black.

“So what you gettin’ all dressed up for, _mon ami_?”

“Last time we pulled this, you almost ended up with lead in your gut,” Logan reminds him. “Rogue and I are tagging along this time to keep an eye on the situation.”

“Ahh, so _dat's_ why de wolf-man clean up so nice,” Remy says.

Logan snorts. “Don't get used to it.” 

This whole operation started about a month ago when missing mutants began turning up in the southernmost region of the country either irreversibly traumatized, mutilated, or dead. 

Disturbing coincidences between cases lead to the even more disturbing rumors regarding underground mutant trafficking and the wealthy men who preyed on the most vulnerable members of their community. Numbers gradually continued rising, brothers and sisters continued going missing, and ignoring the problem sure as hell wasn't going to change anything. Remy had suggested it, knew not too many mutants were capable of helping themselves in that area. Most of those who could lived in hiding, afraid of this exact kind of thing happening to them or people they cared about.

_“I know de type,”_ Remy told them sitting around the war-room table. _“Self-righteous old pricks who gonna preach anti-mutant hate speech till dey blue in de face, but won' think twice ‘bout payin’ one t’go down on ‘em.”_ Logan hadn't thought he'd ever heard Remy talk like this, and couldn't help but notice Rogue’s solemn nods as he spoke.

It didn't take much more convincing for Scott to allow them to assemble a team.

_“We do ret-con only right now,”_ Jean told their group, consisting only of her, Wolverine, Rogue, Nightcrawler, and Gambit as they flew towards Los Angeles. _“Cyclops has given us two weeks to find as much information as we can. Longer, if there's anything we can do about it.”_

They'd spent the last week and a half making their way eastward, jumping city to city, all the way from California to the seedy hotel in the outskirts of Miami that they found themselves in currently. Tonight, hopefully, was the end of their road.

Logan glances at Remy as he changes, watches him button up his black dress shirt with unmatched precision. He looks good in the all black outfit he's chosen for himself.

“What're you doing about your-”

“Sunglasses,” Remy says, straightening the tie that'd been given to him. “Dem rich, artsy types don't care much for what you wearin’, long as it’s expensive... _Mais la_ , Logan!” Remy turns to Logan and pushes his hands aside. He makes quick work of the bow tie. “Remy gotta do every’ting for you?”

Logan grunts out a, “ _Thanks_ ”.

Remy smooths out Logan's collar for him. His hands glide to his shoulders and he gives them a squeeze.

“I know you ain’t enjoyin’ this much as I am, but I'll be safe wit’ the big, scary Wolverine to watch out for me, yeah?”

Logan looks down, and Remy gently grabs him by the chin to makes him look back up.

“What's eatin’ you, _bébé_?”

“I don't like the way they look at you, darlin’,” Logan says eventually, and Remy responds by wrapping his arms around his neck. They both remain quiet.

“We almos’ done.”

“I know.”

“You ready to do dis?” Remy asks.

“Are you?”

Remy pauses as if he’s thinking about his answer. “Yeah, I t’ink.”

They meet the rest of the team in Rogue and Kurt's room. Jean and Kurt are wearing their uniforms and Rogue is wearing what looks to be an outfit similar to Logan's: long sleeves, a bow tie - gloves, in her case. Remy catches on and laughs.

“So you playin’ a waiter, Lo?”

“Shut up, swamp breath.”

“This is the last one, Remy,” Jean tells him, pulling images up on her laptop. “Senator William Newell from Louisiana.”

“Huh. Well, that's convenient,” Rogue says, leaning in to looks at the screen with the rest of them.

“Ah, dat’s where you wrong, _mon ami_. He ain’t a fan a’ my kind.”

“What do you mean?”

“Newell been makin’ it hadah for people in de bayou since _I_ was a kid. He think we nothin’ but a bunch of inbred savages out dere. Thieves guild even give a little to de families just so dey can send dey kids to school.”

“Good thing you're an empath, then,” Jean reminds him.

“Still may be hard,” Remy says.

“Rogue and Logan are going to be with you until you leave the building with him. The tie you're wearing has a camera and a tracking device, so we can keep an eye on you.”

Remy shifts his weight uncomfortably. 

“You'll be able to exit the hotel room and find us as soon as you do. We're not going to leave you stranded.”

“Got it.”

“You can drive yourself in the car you rented, the four of us will be taking the van.”

Remy slips his sunglasses from his pants pocket and put them on his face.

“Look okay?”

“Great, actually,” Jean says. “You'll fit in just fine.”

“Went to a few a’ dese when I was a kid… Not for de party. More for de art.”

Remy smiles, so the rest of them do too.

\--

Logan and Rogue walk into the building before Remy. He's adjusting his ear piece and straightening the tie per Jean’s request.

“ _Are you ready_?” Jean asks, and Remy sighs.

“As I'm ever gonna be.”

Remy steps out of his car and adjusts his sunglasses like a nervous tick. He hands the valet some money for parking and walks up the steps of the art gallery. He grabs the door, holds it open for a few people, and smiles.

“ _Rogue and Wolverine see the senator on the second floor. Make your way there_.”

Remy walks with a young woman on his way in and smiles at her, chats her up a little before moving on.

“ _Gambit-_ ”

“ _I know what I'm doin’,_ ” he whispers. 

Remy makes his way to the second floor and smoothly slips into a group of people talking about the art. Remy glances around the room behind his sunglasses. He finds Rogue standing in the corner with a tray of drinks. Logan is standing opposite her at the other end of the room. Remy starts to move on before he's stopped again by a hand on his shoulder. He spins around and is met face to face with the senator.

“Thought I heard a little bit a’ _Yat_ comin’ from this side of the room.” Newell reaches his hand out, and Remy takes it.

“Lil’ bit a’ _Yat_ , lil bit a’ _Cajun_ ,” Remy says. “Name’s Leon.”

Remy picks a new fake name each night. Logan helped him with this one.

“Bill Newell. Where're you from, son?”

“New Orleans,” Remy tells him “Live ‘dere mos’ my life.”

The whole team can hear Remy through their ear pieces, and they know he's laying it on a little thicker than he normally does, trying not to make it sound like he's been living in New York for the past few years.

“Live there now?”

“Mos’ly. Come down here every now and den when it get too borin’.”

“Accent reminds me of the swamp.”

Remy smiles. “Got me. Was born dere. Got cousins who live dere too.”

“Pretty well spoken for a young man from the bayou.”

Remy hides his disgust well.

“My family was able to pay for a good school.”

“God bless em’. Wish we had a hundred more of you livin’ out there. You here with anyone tonight?”

“No, sir.”

“Come on, I'll introduce you to a few people.” Remy walks with the senator, and the team shares a collective sigh of relief.

“Almost there,” Rogue says, now standing side by side with Logan in a corner of the room.

“Then why don't I feel any better?” Logan asks, absentmindedly.

“Because, sugar, the hardest part ain't over yet.”

 

Remy and Newell eventually end up at a small table near the bar. They talk casually, mostly about New Orleans and Louisiana as Remy spouts off fabricated details about his past off the top of his head. He adjusts the sunglasses on his face and the senator glances at him over his own pair of glasses.

“Ain't gotta wear those, son.”

“Hm?”

Newell laughs. “Noticed your eyes the first minutes we got to talking.”

It was a good sign, so Remy slips them off. He adjusts his hair.

“Fascinating.”

“T’ink so?”

“Sure. I ain’t got nothin’ against mutants, personally. Jus’ the dangerous ones.” He takes a drink of what he's holding. “You one ‘a those?”

“Don't believe I am.”

Logan hears that through his earpiece and barely suppresses a smirk.

“Mutants like you, they're beautiful.”

Okay. Not funny anymore.

Remy pretends to be flattered. He lowers his head then glances back up.

“T’ank you, senator.”

“Call me Bill.”

Remy pauses for a minute, swallows and smiles. “T’ank you, _Bill_.”

“Want another drink, son?”

“ _Oui_ , _merci_.”

“Wait here, I'll get you one.”

Remy watches the senator get up and walk to the back. Remy sighs and drops the façade for a moment. He nervously fidgets with the watch on his wrist.

“ _Wolverine says to watch out for the drink_ ,” Jean says.

Remy glances to where Logan is standing in the room. They make eye contact for a moment and Remy grins at him before Newell gets back.

“ _Bien merci_ , _mon ami_ ,” Remy says take the dark liquor from his hand. Remy repeats the same act he has five times before. He presses the alcohol to his lips for a beat and takes it away.

“Mm, can you get me a napkin?”

Newell gets up again and Remy reaches far behind him, pouring half the cup into a potted plant.

“Thirsty?” The senator asks, and Remy takes the napkin to set his drink on. He smiles up at Newell.

“Don't drink much. Like to do it when I can.”

Remy waits a while, engages senator Newell in more small talk before he slowly slurs his speech, bobs his head, relaxes his eyes.

“You doin’ okay, son?”

“Got tired all a’ sudden.”

“Too much to drink?”

“ _Non_ , I just don’... feel good.”

Remy wants to puke at how fake concerned Newell looks right now. He carries on, tries to stand up but falters a little. The senator stands up and holds him.

“Let's get you some fresh air.”

“Yeah, sound good…”

Logan and Rogue watch Remy be led from the room. Rogue looks at Logan's hands and sees his claws shifting under his skin.

“He's gonna be _okay_ ,” She reminds him. “Come on, we should get to the van.”

Rogue and Logan make their way back to where they parked. Jean is at the steering wheel and Kurt is sitting in front of a little screen that's projecting the point of view from Remy’s tie. Rogue and Logan sit down next to him.

“ _Where we goin’?_ ” Remy asks, his voice weak and slurred.

“ _Don't worry, darling. I'm going to take good care of you._ ”

Logan's fingers dig into his thighs.

“ _Ain't never seen one as beautiful as you. Oh, you'll make a pretty penny_.”

The three crowded around the screen watch as one of Newell hands slide between Remy thighs.

“ _May just keep you for myself. Pretty little mutant whore_.”

Everyone in the van makes a noise of distress in reaction. Logan feels like he's going to be sick.

“ _Tie you up, keep you open_.”

“I'll kill him.”

“Logan-”

“ _Too bad you can’t make me any babies_ ,”

Logan's claws peak out his knuckles, and Kurt has to tightly grab his shoulder.

They're parked behind a fancy high end hotel in the heart of the city, and Jean rejoins them in the back.

“Make sure you take his laptop, Gambit. His laptop and his suitcase.”

Logan moves for Jean. He's taken out his earpiece for now, until his blood pressure returns somewhat back to normal. 

Newell is helping Remy out of the back of his car. He pays the driver and walks until they back to his hotel room.

“Here you go, darling,” the senator says, laying Remy onto the bed. Remy grunts a little and keeps his eyes partially open.

“That's right, baby, keep em open for me.” Remy notices Newell reaching into his pocket and sliding out his phone. The sound of pictures being taken fills Remy's ears, and it almost makes him break.

“I know you've been wantin’ this all night,” Newell says, unbuckling his pants.

Remy waits until Newell is on top of him. His hands going for the buttons of Remy’s shirt. Remy puts a hand on the back of Newell neck.

“You wanna kiss, b-”

Remy's forehead makes hard contact with the senator's. Newell losses balance and Remy sends his knee sharply into his abdomen, right underneath his ribs. Newell rolls onto his back and Remy's elbow goes into his face, cracking his nose.

Before he has a chance to scream for help, Remy shoves his hand into Newell’s mouth and he grabs his top row of false teeth. Remy reaches into his pocket and grabs the phone, charging and tossing it seconds later and watching it explode on the carpet.

“One sound outta you and dat phone gon’ be de least of yo’ worries. Got it, _homme_?”

Newell nods, blood pouring out his nose.

“Good.”

Remy grabs him by the collar of his shirt, tossing him into the floor. He puts his body weight into a kick to the senator’s ribs, making a sick crunching noise that's audible to everyone sitting in the van.

“ _Gambit-!_ ”

Remy takes out his earpiece and shoves it into his pocket. He grabs Newell by his greying hair and lands two good punches on his already broken nose. One in his mouth. Two teeth hit the carpet.

“He’ll kill him,” Jean says as all four mutants watch the scene in mute horror. Remy's gone back to kicking the senator in the ribs.

“He won't,” Logan says. “He... won't.”

Before Jean sends Kurt to bamf in and get Remy, the assault stops. Remy quickly grabs what he came for: the laptop, a briefcase, a wallet. The senator's wedding ring and a watch. The last thing the group sees is Remy’s spit landing on Newell’s bleeding face. Remy opens the window and makes his way down the fire escape of the building.

He doesn't say anything when he gets into the van. Jean drives away as soon as the door closes. Remy is staring down at his blood stained hands.

“Remy-” Rogue begins.

“I'm fine, _cheri_. I'm fine.”

She lets it go.

Remy drops his clothes as soon as he enters the hotel room, and Logan puts them in Remy's suitcase. He's sure someone at the school can get blood stains out of clothes. Remy doesn't come out of the bathroom for over two hours, and when he does he sits himself right into Logan's lap, bare-ass naked.

“Remy-”

“Shh, _cher_ , please.” He kisses Logan. “I just need you. I need you to love me, Lo. I need you to love me.”

Logan looks into those beautiful eyes and sighs. He presses kisses Remy's jaw.

“Okay, darlin’. Okay.”

\--

Remy wakes up. He smiles at the scent of breakfast that hangs above him.

“Bacon?”

“ _Thank you, Logan._ ”

Remy reaches for the takeaway, which is pulled centimeters from his grasp.

“Mm, _merci beaucoup_. Now give Remy food.”

Remy is rewarded with the styrofoam box being placed gently in his lap. He sits up, his hair sticking up in several different directions.

“You _gentle_ last night,” Remy states, grinning.

“Aren't I always.”

Remy laughs a little. “T’ank you, _mon ami_.”

“Don't need to thank me. I didn't do anything special.”

Remy’d be willing to argue that if he didn't have a mouth full off scrambled egg at the moment.


End file.
